St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-03-22

over the side, but apparently just as
they were before had left the deck.
l remember that one OF them, an Azore
Islander, was grooming away in low
voice at one of the chants peculiar to
his people, and / never heard that air
In after days without being reminded
OF the horrors OF that night.
Concluding that the mysterious face
at the pinnacle was creature of my
own imagination, / again took my
seat on the vice bench, determined to
keep a sharp eye upon the weather,
which by this time had grown very
threatening. A darker night l never
saw. The ship was rushing through the
water at the average rate of about
eight knots, leaving long trail OF
phosphorescent light that cleaned far
in her wake. The wind was no longer
steady, but rose and fell in irregular
gusts, causing the vessel to run al
most upon an even keel at times, and
then to keel over and boil along with
chain plates dragging in the water.
Great flashes of light lit up the scene
at intervals, showing massive cloud
bank rising rapidly almost dead ahead.
My boat steerer, who had been anx-
iously looking out for'ard for some
time, came up to me and said: 81
think we're going to get heavy squall
out there before long, sir; it looks
mighty black" 1 had about madeup
my mind to get in the light canvass,
and clew up the fore and main-sails,
despite the commands of the skipper,
when loud exclamation from the
boat steerer of "fore God it's comm
STRIP caused me to spring to my feet.
First there was a prolonged rum
bling sound like a distant roll OF mus
kerry, followed by terrific peal of
thunder that seemed to rend the ocean
to it's very depths, then q furious
downfall of rain ratified upon the deck
like ashower of falling buckshot. The
squall was upon us in all its fury, and
struck the ship right forward as if it
had been q blow from some gigantic
arm from heaven. The worst had
happened-we were struck aback. The
vessel leaping forward on her course,
had met the shock OF the furious gale
that drove her sails fiat back upon the
splinterlng masts causing her to rear
her bows high in the air, almost bring
ing the taffrail under water. 1 shout
ed to the men; "Haul up the foresail"
then Selling hold of the rail, clambered
up the slanting deck, and laid hold OF
the main clew garnet to get up the
starboard clew. The sail was fast
bound back to the mast and rigging
by the force OF the squat. and l might
as we'll have tried to lift the ship.
There was a boom like the roar of d
cannon, and ! saw the jib, blown clear
out of the bolt-ropes, fly away like a
white cloud to leeward. / shouted to
the helmsman, "Put your wheel to
starboard there-hard starboard!"
There came no ans wer.
"Starboard that wheel there; quick,
for Gods sake!" Still there was
no reply. Believing that the man
had been carried overheard,
turned hastily and looked toward
the pinnacle. A prolonged glare OF
sulphurous light lit up the scene as I
gazed aft, and I saw as distinctly as
ever saw anything in my life-a man
at the wheel-not theman l had spok-
en- to a few minutes before, but him
they had left to die upon the beach at
Bermuda-the Malay. Hestood there,
his hands grasping the spokes, the
embodiment OF avenging fate, and l
saw to my horror, that he had
put the wheel hard to port. This
meant destruction to us all, and,
despite the icy terror OF my
heart. again shouted in my
despair, "Starboard your wheel! hard
starboard!" Back upon the gale was
borne the answering cry, a cry of
doom, GAY, ay, sir! Hard a port" l
then knew full we'll that the Helen
Mar was lost. Held firmly in the teeth
of the furious squall by the hand of
the ghostly helmsman, the doomed
vessel reared her bows high in air
IKE the head of a frightened steed. l
drew my knife and cut loose from its
flashing an extra spar that had been
made fast to the bulwarks. Looking
seward l saw O. huge billow rising
mountain high over the stern. For a
second it hung curling above us, and
then descended with thefury of an avail
anche, S MASKING the deck and bulwarks
of the Helen Mar as though they were
of paste board. Graspingm my precious
spar, was borne by the blllow lar
out to leeward. I managed to cling
to my frall support until daybreak,
when, as by a miracle, I was rescued
by the crew ofthe Danish brig "Rollo."
bound for st. George. After my re-
covery from the fever into which was
thrown by the events of that night, l
told my story in substance to the
ships owners as have told it here.
They naturally concluded that my
reason was unhinged by suffering
and exposure; hence, to my incompe-
tency as a seaman, rather than to the
real cause, have they ever since ascrib-
ed the Gloss of the Helen Mar"
E. G. j.
Death Before DiShOnOP.